Arrr! See CONTENTS for links to the 125 chapters of The Monstaville Memoirs plus introductions, conclusions, postscripts and appendices. This treasure trove also includes a collection of articles offering further insights into the themes explored in the trilogy. Namely, managing suffering and conflict (dealing with hostile people if you are nervous, sensitive or shy) and learning not to react

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Saturday, 25 January 2014

Monstaville Book II. Monstaville 2

[Note:
Each book in the trilogy commences with a Monstaville section which offers some
background in the form of related history]

.

“Dealing with difficult people is
dealing with their fear. Most people who create pain are unaware that they are
doing so. As you deal with their reflection or criticism, you are really
dealing with your own doubt and fear. The difficult person is a catalyst that
brings your own wounds to the surface. Often, when you change your way of
responding, the difficult person changes his response to you. Removing
characterisations is the place to start making that change. When you’ve removed
your judgements and characterisations from your heart, when you have removed
the mask you’ve made for those people you call difficult, you will find
yourself interacting with people more openly and honestly. Your mere presence
will be an extension of love and will be felt by the difficult person. Such a
change doesn’t happen overnight, though. It happens gradually as you heal your
bag of ‘stuff.’”

This book covers the remaining
period to the end of my journal. After I stopped keeping the journal I
continued to enter the odd note here and there but I did not write down my
thoughts on subsequent conflicts until I started writing these books. I have,
however, written a brief account of the couple of years following the period
covered by book two in the Monstaville trilogy.

After Pigsy, the next person to move
in was a large woman from Zimbabwe. We spoke often. She was friendly - and
quiet - at first. She was trying to suss me out though and I learned the reason
was that she was another selfish manipulator. She called me up to change a
light bulb for her. I obliged, and while fitting the new one (not believing
that a former school teacher was that ‘helpless’), she told me that, in Africa,
they didn’t know how to change light bulbs but they were very good at pulling
the heads off chickens (or something). She was effectively telling a vegetarian
how barbaric she was!

I became aware that, whenever I
mentioned the hateful activities of the family next door, their intimidation
would increase. They started making loud noises late at night just after I
mentioned to her in a conversation that I needed eight hours sleep and that I
was more likely react negatively to the neighbours if they prevented me from
getting the amount of sleep that I required. Their campaign of wall-knocking,
each night without fail between 11.30 p.m. and one-ish, lasted for a whole
year. I simply stayed up later and got on with my work. In fact, it helped to
fuel my literary enquiry into life in multicultural Britain (which is lying around
somewhere waiting to form a project at a later date). Statistics show that one
in three Londoners come from an ethnic minority so this is an important topic
and, in my view, requires more debate than we find in the media at present.
Later, just two days after explaining to her that I was going to bed after the
neighbours’ absurd, childish attempts to torment me, they started playing
Islamic music late at night. Basically, it looks like I trusted someone who was
not to be trusted. After all, wasn’t this the answer to my positive
affirmations? No! I was forced to recognised that the ‘wolf in sheep’s
clothing’ paradox is so rampant in our society, as a friend points out. ‘Just
sickening!’ she adds.

Billy
Balowski (Alexei Sayle): I've not always been mad, you
know, but um...I was actually driven mad by the indifference of architects and
council planners. You see, I live in a tower block, and um, the thing about
those is, there's terrible noise problems, 'cause there's no noise insulation
at all, you know, and eight floors below you, there's always some bastard who's
got a Yamaha home organ, you know. You're just about to go to sleep and you hear
this ‘DOOT DOOT! TCH-TCH, DOOT DOOT! TCH-TCH, ROLL-OUT-THE-BARREL! DOOT-DOOT,
TCH-TCH, DOOT DOOT, TCH-TCH’ And, like, the people who live upstairs from me, I
can't understand what they're doing, you know. I’ll listen. And all I can hear
is this weird noise that goes, ‘Voom voom! Blap blap! Voom voom! Blap blap!’ It
sounds, right, it sounds like two elephants on a motorbike riding round and
round, while a seal bangs a kipper on the table! I went upstairs to complain,
and the door was answered by this elephant in a crash helmet! Standing behind
him's this seal going, ‘What is it now, Ralph?’ [Places his left hand on his
hip and mimics a female seal banging a kipper on a table –
hilarious!].

-
The Young Ones
(additional material written by Alexei
Sayle: Season 1, Episode 3, ‘Boring,’ written by Ben Elton, Rik Mayall
and Lise Mayer, 1982).

There was hardly any sound from
upstairs at all for a year (caution breeds discipline and responsibility and
fear, respect). Then, all of a sudden, her every step became a resounding THUD.
Naturally, the next time we met in the hall after a couple of weeks, and
talked, I mentioned this and asked if she had started wearing shoes at home.
She said, ‘no.’ The noise was very loud. She asked me if the noise was a
‘creaking’ sound and I said no but she insisted on walking on a certain
floorboard so I could hear it. So, I listened and could hear the creaking but
went back to tell her that was not a problem and that what was so loud was her
every step, everywhere in her flat! Furthermore, I had heard no sound at all as
she had walked around for a whole year! She then said, at some point, that she
had bought a new pair of slippers. She showed them to me and I almost laughed
at the spectacle of this large African lady wearing these tiny-looking, pink,
fluffy slippers. It was a sight! So, she went back into her flat and I
confirmed that the loud thudding on the ceiling had resumed. She pointed out
that the soles of her new slippers were not soft and must be causing the loud
noise. She promised not to wear them but never kept her promise and continued
wearing them each day.

I also started hearing the creaky
floorboard regularly, not that it bothered me, and another piercing sound of
which I couldn’t figure out the cause. Eventually, I realised that it was
probably her bouncing on the sofa positioned on another loose floorboard. Then,
she started having parties every weekend, which is not terribly unreasonable
except that I was not in a very understanding mood by that time. I was being
driven mad by the noises more than ever in fact. In addition to loud music
being played off and on, I had to endure these incredibly loud, booming voices
upstairs. I played some music myself to block out the partying, not intending
to retaliate or anything, and I was very taken aback when she turned her music
up even louder. She became just like Pigsy, listening for sounds and reacting
to them aggressively, like I am in a submarine and the enemy is in a battleship
above! Consequently, I made sure I was quiet so that she did not know where I
was or what I was doing and had no excuses to react to the more innocent of
noises. Yet another clash of cultures. My genes, or sensitivity, simply have
not prepared me for tolerating such loud music and talking from neighbours, or
a lack of spatial awareness for that matter.

“Nothing is
permanent in this wicked world, not even our troubles.” - Charlie Chaplin.

Thus began another noise war! I had
not previously played my own music so loud as to overwhelm the partying
upstairs but I did now. And, I hardly cared about my other neighbours who had
been turning their television up very loud for months without any response from
me. So, I had to endure all the noise coming from the flat upstairs and she and
the other neighbours had to endure my loud music. I would have preferred a
quiet life and wearing my headphones but I was mainly trying to make a point.
Namely, that if they had no intention of respecting my space why should I
respect theirs? I think she was very sociable and wanted to make friends so she
thought that renting a flat all by herself was an ideal opportunity to hold
weekly parties and invite people she had met. Perhaps she was looking to meet a
man, and she did find one eventually; at my expense, it feels, if this is the
way she went about it! I reckon she had been trying to suss me out to make sure
that I wouldn’t cause any trouble and just put up with it. It’s difficult to
fathom what games manipulative people are playing. All I know, in retrospect,
is that I was wrong to be so trusting and open. She moved out after she heard
me swearing at the neighbours next door that day when they were still playing
excruciatingly loud tabla drums at 2 a.m. So, I assume she must have been up
and perhaps believed that I was swearing at her because it was at the opposite
end of the flat to where she slept. [In other words, she probably assumed I knew that she had not yet gone to bed and that she was in her front room, which I did not].

Looking back, it seems almost
humorous, like a Bugs Bunny or Daffy Duck cartoon! At the time, in the thick of
it, of course it was not funny at all. Nowadays, however, I can see the funny
side of this situation. After a succession of selfish people and a clash of
energies and interests, I felt - and still feel - blessed to have a wonderful
neighbour living upstairs now. [Retrospective note: Hahahahaha!]. We have a
good rapport and she seems to understand that I have been learning to stand up
for myself in this place. She does not feel terribly safe in this area, she
says, and plans to move, which is a shame from my point of view, but I wish her
every happiness wherever she may live. Soon after she moved in, I expressed
gratitude that she lives quietly and peacefully like myself. She walks around
in shoes for brief spells nowadays, daily in fact, but I just ignore it. She
knows it disturbs me because I have mentioned it (I explained that it was loud
enough to be an effective alarm clock in the mornings). I simply accept it and
forgive. I see no need to mention it again whether it is deliberate or
inflicted out of indifference or some other reason. I explained the situation
with the neighbours to her.

“Let us be slow to judge and quick
to forgive.” – Unknown.

El Phaba [the nickname I later gave
to the current tenant living above me] said she wouldn’t play loud music and
she hasn’t, and I assume that she
agreed it was anti-social (although she did play loud music on the day she
moved in and I got the impression she would have done so regularly had I not
mentioned it and may even resent feeling inhibited in this way)! We have a good
rapport and she did a couple loads of laundry (whites) when my washing machine
broke. Meanwhile, the Bengalis next door use their cars as stereos and play
extremely loud music as though the street is some kind of disco for their personal
pleasure. Evidently, the mother doesn’t allow them to play loud music in the
house so they listen to it in their car - which must sound equally loud indoors
and to everyone else in the street as well. Another family up the road often
has loud music on in the house all day with the front door and windows open. I
don’t know how their neighbours endure it. And, dare I mention this, but I know
of three local black residents who regularly play extremely loud music with the windows open. I can’t begin to imagine
what a nightmare it must be for their neighbours. I would definitely be on to
the Noise Abatement team if it was me living so near to them.

“Positivity is not about being soft.
It’s about being smart.” – Quoted on a t-shirt.

Perhaps it is just that a degree of
selfishness sets in after a year of living in a flat. One day, after I had
played some loud music when El Phaba was out in retaliation for all the
tabla drumming I was enduring at the time, I overheard a guy from the
neighbour’s house informing her of this as she was walking home. She replied,
‘Oh, is he, right, OK.’ Since her parents are from Pakistan, I did wonder if she’d
been approached by them and had agreed to something. They are cunning and very
good at indirect, but prolonged intimidation that slowly injects poison into
their victim whilst it appears that they have not engaged in warfare on a
radical level. The drama is hidden from view. They could easily have contacted
her on her mobile if she was around so she could come home, forcing me to turn
the music off, since I would certainly refuse to enter into any kind of noise
war with her as well! Well, if that is true, they must have discovered that
such a strategy could not succeed. I’m simply too smart! Then again, she may
have just been humouring them, knowing what they’re like.

At that time, El Phaba also started
wearing shoes in her flat much of the time but since that nightmare did not
continue for long, it is not a problem. Anyway, I reserve judgement on that
one. It does appear that she involved herself, particularly because of the
timing as well as suddenly being reluctant to chat to me as usual, but
appearances aren’t sufficient things from which to draw conclusions. When
someone is friendly and helpful, it is difficult to imagine that they could
wish you harm (or believe or sympathise with the nasties and join them for
subjective reasons). I endure the brief spells of daily stomping, the ‘status
quo,’ patiently, not wishing to make things worse.

You've changed

You're not the angel I once
knew
No need to tell me what we're through
It's all over now
You've changed

If you live with people in the same
house and you are disconnected and do not feel able to sit down and talk,
sometimes the weaker-minded person can gradually believe all manner of things.
They feel insecure and paranoid about what you are ‘up to,’ especially in
relation to themselves because they are living in their subconscious pretty
much all the time. They don’t meditate and, therefore, they are closed in on
themselves. They see life through a dirty pane of glass and they only want to
know people with similarly tarnished vision; for, these they feel they can
‘trust.’ They fear what they do not know. The reason is so clear: the
caterpillar doesn’t want to know it has the potential to be a butterfly. After
all, who really wants to go through the chrysalis stage and lose everything to
which one is attached in order to change? Not knowing the beauty and meaning of
freedom, human beings have been stuck in a rut for so long. They may simply
test you selfishly in order to see what they can get away with because they
cannot be bothered to show you any respect. Not respecting themselves, they
demand respect from you. The wild person does not wish to recognise that their
behaviour is ‘wrong.’ They want to behave however they want. Being
undisciplined, they are not up to living in this kind of situation. It requires
strength and sensitivity, and a civilised attitude towards other people.

It is when people behave selfishly
and destructively over a long period (especially through such thin walls in
one’s home) that one cannot help respond in some way in an attempt to put an
end to the ordeal. So many potentially mutual learning processes with myself at
the hub! Well, I have learned a great deal anyway! Hence, unseen forces led me
into this precarious position. I looked on the Internet not long after the
trouble kicked off in the beginning for information, or anything that might
help me tackle this situation, tips on dealing with selfish and noisy
neighbours. I could find nothing. I don’t know what is out there now, but I am
offering my own experiences and insights anyway. [I have included some
information that I later found on the Internet in 2009 in Appendix I of the
first Monstaville book].

How to shift that energy - of
someone who’s a pain in the butt.
(Notes from ‘Who Are the Ascended Masters?’ a talk by St. Germain and the
Ascended Masters channelled through Ashamarae McNamara, 12 June 2009,
www.awakeningfromwithin.com).

Own that
they are there in your service. Ask why they are in your life? The answer is,
‘To serve me.’ Everything in your reality is there to serve you. Some things
you would like to stop serving you. What do I believe about me that I require
this service? They don’t leave. If you dismiss them they reappear. They change
bodies in order to show me what I believe about me whether I believe it in this
moment or not.

They are
here to show me I don’t like that one because that is not me for sure! I never
act that way. And maybe you do not but in essence you do. If you are not moved
by it then you are not doing it yourself.

Pay
attention. Witness it. Look at it. Take it in. This is an opportunity to learn
about me, a belief I have about myself. It is all an illusion but it is still
dancing in the form of another. Is this what I’d like to hold onto, to keep? In
that moment, give it to God. Ask him to clear it at its root and let it go.

Decide
if it is something you’d like to keep or not. Offer it to God. You brought them
into your life in steps. When you are a child your mother says you’re a brat and
you accept it because she is your God telling you who you are. When you realise
you are not that you clean it up with the Grace of the Divine. It is a foolish
step to do it alone. It is foolish because you are not alone anyway but also
because you need extra power. Say, ‘Please help me with this.’ You created it
and you can uncreate it. And when someone shows you kindness it’s something in
you too: kindness.

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About Me

Born on 25 November 1965 and currently living in Yorkshire, England. I write songs and books and have a website that serves as a platform for my work as well as being an Ascension resource. The Treasure Chest displays all chapters of The Monstaville Memoirs trilogy as well as further insights from various sources relating to the themes of these books. The Powerlessness of Now reveals the many ways in which we have given our power away to the Establishment through its web of control.

“Someone asked, ‘Why is there suffering?’ [Meher] Baba gave this succinct reply: ‘Suffering is essential for the elimination of the ego, just as it was necessary for you to scrub and scrub in order to wash the stain from my coat.’" - Unkown.

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